


A Sweeter Refuge

by songspinner9



Series: Bitty's Bakery [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, a few years from now, two sorts of Captains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 12:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7508110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songspinner9/pseuds/songspinner9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crossover requested on Tumblr: a few years in the future, with Bitty owning a successful bakery, Jack hanging out there in his off-season, and a little Stucky (just hinted at in this story, but it's there).  It would seem that a baker, a hockey player, and two superheroes have a certain amount in common.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sweeter Refuge

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Check, Please! belongs to Ngozi and the Avengers belong to Marvel and I suppose, now, Disney. I am only playing in the sandbox and I'll smooth out the surface again when I am done. Comments are welcome and appreciated if respectful!

Jack Zimmerman was in one of his favorite spots in his fiancée’s shop – perched on a stool at the main counter with a cup of coffee (black) and a slice of pie (maple-apple). It was a relief to finally be here this week at the start of his off-season. His new camera was sitting on the table a calculated and careful distance away from the pie, and he was busy reading the manual when he heard the little bell on the door let out a merry jingle. 

Yeah, that was definitely Captain America and the Winter Soldier in the bakery’s doorway, the leader of the Avengers pulling off his cowl and running a hand through messy blonde hair. The customer currently paying for her pie order silently finished doing so, and the other one or two left in the shop nodded at the newcomers in approval and went back to quiet conversation.

_The first time Bitty’s Bakery played host to the two superheroes, months before, the baker had looked up from arranging pies in the display case and almost hit his head on the edge in shock. Bitty had quickly managed to pull himself together to offer the two men some proper hospitality._

_“Come on in, y’all. Sit down and I’m gonna bring you something on the house. Coffee? Water? You saved our city today, so I think we owe you at least some pie.”_

_Jack, there for the weekend with Bitty, watched as Captain America had looked around the small shop, at the deliberately old-fashioned setting filled with comforting scent of spices. He saw tired blue eyes gaze curiously at the cork board covered in Jack's own photos of Bitty's regular customers, and noticed those broad, tense shoulders relax and a hand reach over to nudge his companion’s arm._

_But the hockey player had winced inwardly when he recognized the signs of how overwhelmed Bucky looked. He got up and quietly showed the weary pair the corner booth he favored himself when things were getting to be just too much._

_“I can move my things if you want some peace and quiet, Captain. Not being noticed is occasionally a relief, I know.” He spoke softly and kept his movements small and controlled, like Bitty often did when Jack woke from a nightmare._

_“No, that’s all right.” The man reached out a hand to grip it firmly. “Thank you. We can share. And please call me Steve. I’m not on duty, now.”_

_By the third time Steve and Bucky showed up at the bakery, Bitty had already had a couple of private moments of star-struck glee in the back kitchen (that may or may not have once involved an off-ice celly that had Jack in fits of laughter) and the visits had turned social. They’d graduated to first names after Bitty giggled about his and Bucky’s nicknames occurring in the same sentence, and hockey nicknames had been explained. “So y’all can call me Eric, or Bittle, or Bitty, ‘cause I’m…”_

_“Not tall?” Jack chirped him with the expected comment and a little hip-check._

_“A perfectly good height, thank you.” Bitty huffed, grinning anyway. “Don’t know why I agreed to marry such a rude giant.” He said that last thing almost tentatively, although it didn’t stop him from a habitual and dramatic gesture to show off the ring. And to his relief, in confirmation of what he’d heard about Captain America supporting all human rights, the two superheroes had just shared a smile and congratulated them. Steve proceeded to dryly explain the ridiculous and frequently very rude nicknames the Howling Commandoes had used, which endeared him to Jack’s WWII history-loving-self forever…_

The two men had arrived this time pretty close to the end of the day. They had agreed to stay and enjoy the quiet after the bakery had shut its doors for the night and the other employees had gone home. Having just finished a big meeting with other superhero teams, there wasn’t any rush. 

“And it’s nice to spend some down time around here that doesn’t involve kicking someone’ ass first,” Bucky explained.

Last visit, Bucky had answered a lot of Bitty’s questions about bakeries “back then” and had returned the favor today by getting curious about ice hockey and asking a bunch of questions of his own. 

Watching and listening with interest, Jack perched on a stool at the counter to fiddle with his new camera. 

At some point, though, stories about “little Steve” became the order of the day, and Bitty was laughing as he listened and worked. Superheroes chirped each other about as much as any hockey players, Jack thought, amused. Steve himself had eventually glared in mock exasperation at Bucky and pulled out a sketch pad and started drawing.

“He was sort of like you, I guess, Bitty, from what Jack said about when you two met. Never let his size stop him, really, and fast and stubborn as hell.” Bucky raised an eyebrow at Bitty. “Always trying to take care of everyone.”

With a little squeak of overwhelmed honor at the comparison, Bitty slid the other man’s refilled coffee cup across the counter along with a third piece of mixed-berry cobbler. 

“Well, he wasn’t the Captain, yet. Mostly.” Bucky continued, and looked fondly over at the other end of the counter where Steve was now examining Jack’s camera. “Glad we found this place after that fight. It makes it easier when we’re in the area. And I don’t think he knows a lot of other artists to talk with at home.”

“Oh, Lord. I forgot. I read about that somewhere and now there he is drawing in my bakery. It’s funny, ‘cause most people just see Jack as an athlete, y’know, a star hockey player? The photography is just something he loves. When he’s here like this in the off-season, he’s just helping me out, doing publicity photos for the bakery and sort of fades into the background of all the chaos around here, gettin’ time for ourselves.” Letting out a little sigh, Bitty finished arranging cookies on a display plate. “It gives him something separate.”

Bucky smirked at the smaller man. “You’re probably a good distraction when he needs one too, and I’d bet you don’t let him wound too tight when things go wrong.” 

His mood sobered a little, and he looked across the room again. “I read that interview Jack gave a couple months ago about his…whatcha-call-it…anxiety disorder? How it made him feel as a leader and all that, with everything on his shoulders, and how he deals with it. Put the magazine dog-eared to the article on the bed for Stevie to find. Figured maybe…”

Smiling, Bitty patted the metal hand that was resting on the countertop in understanding. “They both take too much of it on themselves, goodness knows, in their own way, sugar. We can’t fix ‘em, but we can be here for ‘em, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Bucky breathed out a sigh and watched Steve’s blonde head now bent down Jack’s camera manual, charcoal pencils apparently forgotten for now. “Story of our life, I guess.”

“And I am dreadfully sorry,” Bitty went on, “for the flurry of photography-related things y’all are apparently going to have to deal with for the next few weeks back home. I know that _look_ they both have over there. All those new ideas.”

“Eh, he can afford to have more than one hobby.” Bucky commented.

“Those things are ridiculously expensive.”

“70-plus years of back-pay, remember?” 

“Point.”

Bucky looked like he was perilously close to licking his plate clean. “Damn, that was good.”

“Oh my god, where do y’all put it?” 

“Bits?” Jack called over to him with a straight face. “From what I understand, just think of feeding two supersoldiers like oh, when you were feeding the entire Samwell team back at the Haus.”

“Bottomless pits, don’t remind me.” Bitty muttered loudly enough for both his boyfriend and Steve’s super-hearing to catch and then continued in a more normal voice. “You boys should take some back with you. And don’t forget to share them.”

“But…”

“Bucky,” Steve just laughed at him, he and Jack coming back over to their end of the counter. “You heard him. Be nice. You just had how many pieces? C'mon, we’ll buy a few pies, Bitty, and he’ll probably try to hide half of them. Trust me, Clint will find them.”

“Nat will find them first, and I don’t want to be the one to tell the Black Widow she can’t take one of the pies.”

“Heh. Good luck with that.” Jack went to join Bitty on his side of the counter. 

Bitty went to get a small stack of boxed pies and a box of cookies. 

“How much?” Steve asked, pulling out his wallet. “And don’t say on the house.”

“Back-pay…” Bucky sang out softly, laughing when Bitty worked a rude gesture into handing over the goodies.

“$65 for the lot. I hope you two let the rest of the Avengers get some of this. Oh, God. I can’t believe I get to say that!” 

Putting the bills on the counter, Steve handed the boxes to his partner. “One of these days, by the way, we’re going to meet this former team of yours.”

“Family.” Bitty corrected, and Jack felt a burst of warmth inside that made him cuddle up to him from behind. 

“Yeah, family.” His agreement made Bitty stretch up and back to kiss his nose lovingly. “But I don’t know if we need Lardo meeting Black Widow…”


End file.
